


Comfort

by RubyMagnolia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Belly Kink, Clothes Popping, Feeding, Hand Feeding, Inflation, M/M, Shame, Smut, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, magical weight gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4666872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyMagnolia/pseuds/RubyMagnolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Corypheus' defeat, the Inquisition starts to clean up the mess. In amongst it all, Cullen finds himself putting on weight now that the lyrium was out of his system entirely. Ashamed at first, Dorian helps to teach Cullen that having a belly is perfectly fine.</p><p>
  <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14614.html?thread=57421334#t57421334">Kinkmeme Fill</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If feeding and weight gain doesn't sound appealing to you, especially with Cullen putting it on, then it's probably best to back out now.

There was still a lot to be done in Skyhold. Just because Corypheus was defeated, it didn't mean that they could just laze about and leave Thedas to sort itself out. Already alliances were fraying, and there was rebuilding to be done, and Cullen found himself out training nearly every day, although he had delegated somewhat.

So why was he getting fat?

Cullen frowned at the gut which had developed in the last few months, belly soft. His trousers were tighter as well, and he'd started to wear his armour on a looser notch.

The food was better now. They had connections. And Cullen was remembering to actually eat.

Dorian helped with that, insisting on eating every meal with him for the sake of it. They would work through the day and take their dinner privately, with at least three nights of every week ending with sex.

The lack of lyrium in Cullen's veins had started to kick in, the withdrawals fading away. It wasn't burning up his body, ransacking it for every drop of life he had. So clearly the answer to his problem was that he was putting too much energy in and not expending enough.

Shame filled Cullen. The Inquisition couldn't have a fat commander. And Dorian, lover of beauty and perfection, couldn't have a fat lover. It was unspeakable.

He prodded his belly, then strapped his armour on tight, cinching himself in, thoroughly embarrassed that he had to tug hard at the straps when once they slid into their buckles so easily.

When Dorian crawled into bed that night, Cullen pretended to be asleep. It wasn't like they had sex every night, anyway.

•

Cullen rose early, dressing quickly (ignoring his trousers clinging to his thighs and hips, tucking his shirt in so his stomach wasn't as noticeable) and going down to train by himself. He needed to lose the weight before anyone noticed. He needed to watch his meals, stay away from those sweets, and push off the layer of fat with exercise.

By the time he'd finished, the sun was rising, and the soldiers were rousing for their own training. Cullen put his armour on before they could see him through the early morning fog. Then he trained with them as well.

He managed to downsize his breakfast from thick, juicy sausages, eggs and toast to only toast and a cup of coffee. When Cullen caught Dorian staring at him with a thoughtful frown, he panicked.

They didn't have sex that night either.

In fact, Cullen blew out the candle the next time they had sex. Only the moonlight was there to reveal his secret and Cullen made sure he was bathed in the shadows. He felt Dorian's hands grabbing at his hips, squeezing the flesh.

It was a new source of fear. Could Dorian tell? Was Dorian going to leave him and run off with someone much prettier and slimmer? The Inquisitor was a handsome man, unattached. The elvhen rogue had a strong face, and an elegant body. Perhaps Dorian fancied himself something new.

Cullen forced Dorian's hands from his body.


	2. Chapter 2

The hard lines of his body were starting to return when the Inquisitor sent him with Josephine to deal with a fidgety nobleman in Orlais. He wanted use of the Inquisition's soldiers to reestablish his farmlands. They had been ravaged in the fight, and many of his tenants had come to a grisly end, being on the borders of the Wilds.

This Cullen found hard to believe when being served four course meals every night. He mostly stuck to nibbling at the dishes and working out with the estate's guards, or writing to Dorian, but it was a lot of food and Josephine had mentioned it was highly insulting to leave more than half of every dish untouched.

And the cooks somehow knew all of their favourite dishes.

A week of this was bad enough, and Cullen looked forward to leaving when a raven arrived from Skyhold, instructing Josephine and Cullen to visit another noble.

Cullen feigned illness for a few days, sticking to his guest room. That could only work for a while, though, for if he played sick for too long a physician would be called in and someone would be highly insulted for the wrong reasons. He was there as a diplomat.

And then another two nobles piped up.

 _I only wish to go home and see you again,_ Cullen wrote to Dorian. _And the food is too rich. They claim their fields are empty but the amount of food in one meal would be enough to feed an entire village for a week!_

All of it was going to his thighs and belly, but Cullen didn't write that. He was frustrated that his plan had been so thoroughly wrecked. It wasn't like he useless in a fight – duelling and wrestling with the noble guards had proven that – but his trousers cut into his waist, his belly and hips rolling over the top of it, and his ass had taken so much space that he found it difficult to bend over without fearing that it would split.

His armour sat out, everything about him thicker than what he was used to, although nobody commented on it. This made it worse. He felt like they were staring at him, although Josephine reassured him that they were not.

In all, when he pulled on his formal uniform, he was irritated that Josephine had somehow avoided putting on as much weight as he had, her formal uniform not betraying a single extra pound, whilst Cullen hoped his straining buttons wouldn't be noticed. It had been too small to begin with, he told himself, but that only made him miserable.

When they finally left the last doting noble, Cullen was relieved to put on travel clothes and eat bland rations. He had enough time to trim down the fat, and hope that Dorian's memories of his body had faded, now that they had been away for an entire two months.

Just as she hadn't put much weight on, Josephine shed it easily. By now Cullen was good at hiding his frustrations. He took it out with the heavy lifting and sparring, divesting himself of a little weight, but it was stubborn and liked its home on his body.

When they rode into Skyhold, Dorian was there to meet him, long arms wrapping around Cullen before he could stop him.

"I'm all smelly, you don't want to do that," said Cullen.

"Is that any way to greet your lover after two months?" asked Dorian, mock hurt. "Besides, I am wearing _old_ robes and I was helping in the garden, so I am just as dirty as you."

They kissed, a quick one, shy, as Dorian still had tendencies to hide their relationship in public, despite the fact that he was currently draped around Cullen's body like a cat.

"I've had a bath taken to our tower, it's all ready for us now," said Dorian.

Cullen stepped back, grabbing his horse's reins.

"I can't right now. I have something to attend to. You go on ahead and I'll bathe later," said Cullen.

The mock hurt turned to real hurt, and Cullen hated himself for that expression of pain on Dorian's face, but it was for the better this way. The press of his body against his armour reminded him that he wasn't perfect, and that Dorian would surely recoil in disgust if he saw how indulgent Cullen had been.

"Cull-" began Dorian, but he snapped his mouth shut, eyes hard, and turned away in a flurry of robes.


	3. Chapter 3

The first night back, Cullen was too tired to have any sort of sex, and so Dorian let it slide. The second night, it was just a quick fumble in the dark and Dorian felt like he was dealing with a Cullen that he thought he'd lost early in their relationship. It had been a couple of pulls under the sheets. Nothing spectacular.

And nothing comforting after. There were no hugs, no affection beyond distant kisses.

They never ate breakfast together anymore, and Cullen seemed to insist on rising before Dorian and going to bed after him. Maybe Cullen had met someone else. Maybe Cullen didn't love him anymore.

"Are you cheating on me?" Dorian asked over lunch.

"No," said Cullen, over a miserable looking sandwich.

"Then do you still love me?"

"Yes!" said Cullen. "Of course I still love you, why wouldn't I?"

Dorian put his fork down. It was time to resolve this, one way or another.

"Because you don't let me touch you. You've been absent from meals and you're avoiding me," Dorian replied.

Cullen looked down, red spreading across his face, one hand gripping a thigh – almost in disgust, something Dorian had seen Cullen do frequently.

"I didn't want you to see me," he said.

"Why? What's wrong with you?"

Cullen shook his head, and tried to make an escape with a quick dash for the door. Dorian leapt to his feet and grabbed Cullen's wrist.

"What's wrong?" Dorian repeated, more softly than before.

He slid his other hand around Cullen's waist – amoured again, so distant – and pulled him close, even as Cullen squirmed in discomfort.

"It would be better to show you," said Cullen.

His eyes still didn't meet Dorian's. Breaking free, Cullen made sure the doors were locked before shedding his coat, and then unbuckling his armour. As it came off, Dorian noticed the thickness of Cullen's arms and thighs, eyes sliding over a rounded belly, dipping further down to his ass, which had also grown bigger. This was what Cullen was upset about?

Dorian's cock stirred at the thought of being able to nip marks into that softened body.

"I fail to see a problem," said Dorian.

Cullen's head whipped up so fast that Dorian was concerned he had hurt himself.

"Fail to–Dorian, can you not see how fat I've gotten? I-I'm bulging and everything is near ready to burst," said Cullen. His hands clasped over his belly. "And it won't go away. I've tried and it just won't budge."

Certainly, Cullen's clothes were much too small for him now, but Dorian couldn't see anything bad about it.

"You do realise you were in danger of being too underweight to lift a sword?" asked Dorian. "Cullen, you look healthy. You aren't skinny, but you were never meant to be skinny."

And divinely soft. Oh, Dorian could still feel the muscles underneath him, but he couldn't help his arousal at the sight and touch of Cullen's body. Being pressed up against his lover after being deprived of his touch only made his cock harder. Cullen's eyelashes fluttered, and here too he had put on some fat, his face not nearly as gaunt as it used to be.

"You are–" Dorian said, rolling his hips against Cullen, and kissing him on the cheek. "–beautiful. I've seen warriors like you before, and they're every bit of competent as those young brash things without a lick of protection on their bodies."

One hand slipped down Cullen's side, patting and groping his body with tender care, mapping out the differences. Cullen shuddered and leaned in, clutching at Dorian in the way he should have been doing ever since he had returned. Shame still twisted in his mind, especially holding the lean Dorian in his hands, but Cullen shoved it aside as he pulled and nibbled at Dorian's lips.

Their fire had returned. At least partially. Dorian could sense the doubts in Cullen's mind. They were going to have to work on that. And for that to happen, they needed to find out exactly what sort of weight Cullen's body liked to sit at.

•

Completely undressed, Cullen wanted to hide again. There were a lot of candles left lit, Dorian adding to the soft glow of the room with floating coloured globes of fire.

On the other side of the dressing screen, Dorian was waiting patiently for him. What if it all went horribly wrong? What if Dorian decided that he didn't like the new weight after all?

Yet when Cullen stepped out, Dorian stared at him with a loving intensity, savouring every scrap of him, from his thighs to his larger pecs and back down again.

Their sex was gentle. Measured, delicate strokes and kisses, interspersed with Dorian nipping Cullen, working in marks of desire, their release found through rolling against one another.

Sighs as quiet as a spring breeze, and tiny gasps as Cullen rediscovered pleasure from his own body.

Dorian had straddled Cullen this time, but he wanted to feel Cullen's weight next time, pinning him down, belly rolling towards him with gravity.

When the candles went out, it was because they were tired and not because Cullen was trying to hide. Dorian wrapped around Cullen like he was a beloved teddy bear, still stroking Cullen's arms.

As they rose early the next morning, Dorian found it arousing to see Cullen wriggle into a pair of pants, loving how he jiggled, the waistband being slung low on his hips in the attempt to fit all of his ass into the trousers.

"You need new clothes, love," said Dorian.

The buttons were straining, Cullen forcing them through their holes.

"I know," he sighed.

"Well, time for breakfast," said Dorian. "And then we can draft a letter to my tailor. He does lovely work."

He slipped his hands down the back of Cullen's shirt, tucking it into his trousers. There wasn't much room at all, and Dorian realised Cullen wasn't wearing any smalls.

"They got too tight," said Cullen.

His face was pink in the cheeks, revealing light freckles that sprinkled across his nose. Dorian tucked in the shirt front as well, cupping Cullen's cock in it.

He stroked the stitching, the buttons, murmuring a spell of strength. Cullen shifted, feeling it spark against his skin as his trousers clenched along the stitching.

"That should stop any accidental splits," said Dorian.

"Thank you," said Cullen.

He put the rest of his clothes and armour on. Dorian was being kinder to Cullen than Cullen was to himself, putting the buckles sit on a looser hole instead of cinching in his body.

The Inquisition noticed, but Cullen was surprised to find they were praising his new body than withdrawing in rejection.

"Harder to knock you on your ass, now, Commander," said the Iron Bull. "Always thought you were too scrappy."

The Qunari clapped Cullen on the shoulder, and it was true, he didn't stumble forward as he usually did when the Iron Bull pushed him around.

"You won't faint at the War Table," Josephine said.

"That was only once," Cullen pointed out.

"Still, it was enough. I am glad you're embracing it."

The Inquisitor shrugged and handed over a report. He hadn't noticed, since they had very little contact where Cullen hadn't tried to disguise his weight.

Leliana kissed him on the forehead. She knew what the weight meant – Cullen was in good fortunes. A pound cake, baked with a Haven recipe and topped with candied orange slices, appeared in his room.

His soldiers didn't care as long as he was still doing his job.

And so, with that burst of spoken support, Cullen's shame started to wash away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has the smutty stuff and feeding in it.

The spell that strengthened was matched by one that could weaken. It was a simple matter to set up the scenario, Cullen fidgeting in his seat. His new clothes had arrived, and Dorian had formulated a plan to see the old ones off.

"Are you certain it's reversible?" asked Cullen.

"Absolutely," said Dorian. "And it feels wonderful."

"You mean you've had it cast on you?" asked Cullen.

"I've done a lot of things to myself," said Dorian.

Hands lighting up with dark purple magic, Dorian rubbed his belly, being careful not to get lost in the sensation as it became swollen, then distended and developing into a gut to match Cullen's. He dispelled it, stomach deflating and returning to what it had been.

"See? Perfectly safe."

Cullen nodded. He was excited for the plan, but anxious. What Dorian had proposed was outrageous, but it had left an impression in his mind. And over the past few days it had become less and less outrageous.

He'd given away his clothes that were still in good shape. There were enough people without warm things to be throwing nice clothes away carelessly. But the clothes he wore now were clad in stains and patches, already threadbare. Plus Dorian had come up with a little story to help the evening along, working in Cullen's threadbare appearance.

"Tell me the safeword," said Dorian.

"Autumn leaves," said Cullen.

"And to slow down?"

"Sour beer."

Dorian smiled, and straightened his robes, taking a seat at the other end of the tiny, overladen table. His face changed, sliding into an almost predatory stare, watching as Cullen scraped his chair in clumsily. There wasn't nearly as much food as there appeared to be, the more extravagant suckling pig a skilful illusion cast by Dorian. When Cullen carved away at the edge of the pig, he pulled out a roast chicken breast.

A silver gravy train floated down the table and poured out a serving while Cullen was retrieving peas from a glass bowl.

"Is everything to your liking?" asked Dorian.

Dorian was assuming the role of a seemingly kindly noble, and had dressed himself in his black silk robes, with golden jewellery draped across his neck and shoulders. It made Cullen's homespun outfit even shabbier in comparison. Yet the gold and black against Dorian's skin was beautiful, and Cullen was stunned every time he looked at Dorian, mesmerised by him.

"Yes, sir," said Cullen, being meek in his role as a lost peasant.

"Then eat as much as you please."

"Thank you, sir."

He began to eat, letting the food slide down his throat easily. He hadn't eaten any dinner the previous night, and nothing at all again today, allowing his hunger to build in anticipation.

The food was delicious, filling, but Cullen was famished and Dorian was watching, giving him permission to let go, at least tonight. He ate most of the chicken and vegetables, feeling the tenseness in his stomach as it filled up. Then there was a goblet of wine, laced with a potion that would set the next part of their evening into place.

Dorian magicked away the main course, the table now furnished with a small, dense cake. Cullen could smell the chocolate in it, raspberries glistening in the candlelight, cream lacing the top. His mouth watered. It looked heavenly.

"Can you eat any more?" asked Dorian.

The potion started to take effect, and Cullen could feel the food in his stomach expanding, his belly growing fuller by the second, shirt starting to strain.

"No, sir, no more," said Cullen.

Dorian picked up the cake and slid around the table, placing it before Cullen.

"A working man like you has probably never had anything like this before," said Dorian, and Cullen shivered as Dorian's breath tickled his ear. "And you'll probably never get the chance ever again."

"Sir, I couldn't."

"The cook shall be so upset you didn't even try it."

One of Dorian's hands rested on Cullen's shoulder, the other plucking up a dessert fork and carving out a mouthful. He pressed it to Cullen's lips. The noise Cullen made was obscene, shifting in his chair, eyes fluttering shut at the explosion of flavour.

"Another bite? Make the cook happy," said Dorian.

Swallowing the first, Cullen took another, and another, and another, Dorian's hand rubbing his belly until Cullen jerked, hands reaching under his bulk to undo the buttons on his breeches.

He sighed, touching his cock, which had begun to harden from being hand fed by Dorian. Those strong hands stroking him soothed the fullness he felt.

"There's still more," said Dorian. "One more bite?"

By this point, Cullen didn't trust himself to be able to move. He felt as stuffed as the chicken he'd eaten, and as dense as the crumb of the cake that he had eaten at least half of.

"I don't think I can manage much more, sir. I won't be able to leave your good graces," said Cullen.

He shook as Dorian tugged at Cullen's cock, untucking it from the rough fabric he was wearing. Another forkful was presented.

There was only less than an eighth of the cake left when Cullen's shirt popped a button over the widest part of his magically enhanced belly. He heard Dorian grunt behind him, a gasp of interest, and felt the press of Dorian's cock against his back.

He hadn't really paid that much attention to himself since they had started. When Cullen looked down, he blushed, and opened his mouth as Dorian fed him.

When he touched his full belly, it felt firm. He blushed.

"Such a good man," said Dorian. "The cook will be pleased."

The last of the cake was eaten. Dorian leant in, kissing Cullen on the lips, moving his body so he could put both of his hands on Cullen's stuffed belly. Magic tingled through Dorian's hands, and Cullen could taste citrus in the air.

"I shall keep you," said Dorian.

"You can't keep me," said Cullen. "I have to go back to the fields."

The spell ran through Cullen, intense heat washing over him, then a chill. His shirt creaked, or perhaps it was his chair, as his stomach grew bigger.

It wasn't just his stomach, however. Cullen could feel his ass blowing up, chair becoming snug, a double chin and enlarged pectorals next. The pleasure that accompanied it coaxed his cock into full hardness, Dorian purposely layering on spells of lust and arousal to make the experience better for Cullen.

He pulled his hands back, the last of the spell going into Cullen's thighs, his trousers splitting near the inseam.

There was an obvious tent in Dorian's robes, and his nipples were hard enough to be noticeable. Slowly, carefully, Dorian slipped between Cullen's legs.

"Now for my dessert, Commander," said Dorian.

He slipped his lips over Cullen's cock, licking in long stripes as it slid down his throat, nose brushing the thatch of blonde hair at the base of Cullen's cock.

"Oh, Maker," Cullen swore. "How are you doing that?"

Dorian pulled away, dabbing at his mouth with a handkerchief.

"Practice," he said, and he dove down again.

Shaking, quivering, Cullen came about six minutes later, Dorian teasing him, bringing him to the edge, then pulling away to lavish attention to Cullen's heavy body. He had at least six bite marks on his thighs alone.

Just as Dorian stood up, the chair on which Cullen was sitting collapsed. Cullen bounced wonderfully, Dorian observed.

"Shit," said Cullen. "That's your fault, you fiend."

Dorian smirked and helped Cullen up, the clothing ripping off him in almost perfect synchronicity as his belly bulged forward, weight shifting down. The scraps of his breeches fell to the floor with the ruined chair, a scattering of wooden buttons mixing into the wreckage.

Dorian pulled Cullen close, cock hard in his robes, and kissed him again, clutching Cullen's soft flesh as if he were about to be swept away. So throughly excited about Cullen's transformation, Dorian rutted against the meaty thigh he pushed up to his crotch. Cullen helped by lifting Dorian up, and carrying him over to the wall, where he planted his leg high enough that Dorian was sitting on it, toes barely brushing the ground as he whimpered and thrust.

He grabbed the back of Cullen's neck and pulled him in for a kiss as he orgasmed, cum filling his smalls, the stickiness leaking onto Cullen's bare leg.

"We have to do this again," said Dorian. "You're so beautiful."

They fucked on the rug three times, Dorian riding Cullen's cock, clutching Cullen's enormous belly and any bit of flesh he could reach.


End file.
